


He waits

by etoile_etiolee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Dirty Talk, M/M, PWP, Power Play, Rimming, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoile_etiolee/pseuds/etoile_etiolee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt: Is that for here or to go?<br/>Basically, Sam makes Dean wait a little, but hey, it's all part of the game.</p><p>Beta work by firesign10</p><p>Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters don't belong to me.  I make no profits from this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He waits

The smell in the bakery -a wonderful mix of cinnamon, fresh bread and ground coffee- makes Sam’s mouth water. There are a few tables and free Wifi. The snow falling outside only makes the warm atmosphere of the place all the more inviting. Sam smiles at the cashier and places his order: one large black coffee, one vanilla decaf, two cinnamon rolls, and one fruit salad.

“Is it for here or to go?”

Sam smiles. He’s tempted to pick the first option, imagining how pissed Dean would be. Then again, that’s part of the game, isn’t it? 

The image of his brother waiting on their motel bed is almost too much. He’s supposed to stay still until Sam comes back, lying on his back, wearing nothing but a pair of light blue panties –French cut, Sam chose them himself. By now, he’s probably already leaking precome, making a mess of the thin, delicate fabric.

Sam licks his lips and shifts to accommodate his semi-hard dick. 

“That will be to go, please.”

::: :::

Sam walks back to the motel at a leisurely pace, humming under his breath. It feels good to get some fresh air. Snowflakes are falling lazily around him, some land in his hair, on his jacket, on his eyelids. 

Sam takes a few sips of his coffee. It’s good. Luckily, there is a microwave oven at the motel, so he’ll be able to warm it up, because he won’t have time to finish it, that’s for sure.

Not until much, much later.

Sam slides his key in the motel room door and walks inside, closing the door with his foot and shaking himself to get rid of the snow.

“You fucker,” Dean murmurs.

“You said anything I want,” Sam replies, dropping his tray and bag on the small table. 

“Kinky fucker,” Dean adds.

But he doesn’t move. He’s lying on his back in the exact same position Sam left him -his eyes closed, his arms resting on each side of his body, his legs slightly parted. The bulge in his panties has grown to twice the size it was when Sam left, and the head of his cock is forcing its way through the thin elastic band, red and wet. The fabric there is darker, a small circle of silk soaked with precome. 

“You look so damn good like this.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

It’s a question of control. Dean is way too proud not to take Sam up on the challenge. He hadn’t opened his eyes since Sam told him to close them, hadn’t touched himself either. Why bother with ropes when you can achieve the same result using power play? It does things to Sam, to finally have Dean at his mercy, not controlling anything, agreeing to let his little brother take the lead for once.

It does things to Dean too, that’s for sure, so hey, win-win situation here.

Sam undresses himself slowly until he’s down to his boxers. Dean’s hips seem to rise up from the bed on their own. He grunts and takes a long, shuddering breath. His stomach makes a loud rumbling sound. Sam laughs.

“Hungry, Dean?”

“You know I am, that’s why you bought pastries. You know I would be able to smell them.”

“…Right.” Sam kneels on the bed between Dean’s parted legs and slides his hands onto them. Dean shivers and his skin gets covered in goosebumps. 

“…Cold,” he hisses.

“I bought those cinnamon rolls you love so much. If you’re nice, you can have them… later,” Sam murmurs.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” Dean grumbles as his cheeks take on a pink tint and his cock twitches in its silk prison.

“Well, that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Keep your eyes closed.”

Sam takes his time, peppering Dean’s legs with soft kisses, going slowly. He starts at the knees, then goes for the inside of Dean’s thighs, where his brother is so sensitive. Dean lets out a low moan, his hips jerking again.

“Come on, Sammy,” he whispers. “You had your fun, come on, now, stop teasing.”

Sam doesn’t answer, just parts Dean’s legs a little more and licks a long, lazy stripe over the panties, from Dean’s snuggled balls to the tip of his dick where he teases the slit, gathering a big drop of precome in the process. “Damn it,” Dean hisses, tensed all over.

“You like that, Dean? Me using my mouth on your pretty panties, making you so hot for it?” 

Dean blushes harder, and the whole head of his cock slips pass the elastic band, swollen and almost purple. It’s one hell of a sight. Sam presses the palm of his hand on his own shaft to relieve some pressure, then grabs Dean’s thighs, pushing them up until his brother’s legs are bent and resting against his quivering stomach. 

“Sam, what are you-“

“Just relax and enjoy.”

Rimming Dean is something Sam has always liked, mostly because of what it does to Dean, how it can reduce him to a quivering, pleading mess in a matter of minutes. He once came just from a thorough rim job, Sam’s tongue pressing inside his hole, while he was playing with his nipples. Whatever Dean might say, he’s a needy little bottom, and they both know it.

Sam starts licking and biting through the fabric, feeling Dean’s tight hole getting swollen and softer as he goes. There is no finesse in it, Sam is sloppy and loud, the panties getting soaked in his own saliva. Dean grunts quietly, his hands grabbing the comforter, his hips doing those small, jerky motions that turn Sam on so much. He lifts his head to check and, sure enough, Dean’s eyes are still closed, tight. He won’t open them, not until Sam says so.

“How does it feel?” Sam asks.

“Damn it, you know how it feels, can you please…” Dean’s head goes from left to right, his fingers scratching the comforter in a frantic motion.

“You want more, you tell me how it feels,” Sam instructs with a calm he’s far from feeling. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Dean drops, licking his lips. “Yeah, I like it… It’s not enough and too much at the same time, Sam please-“

“Alright,” Sam coaxes. “Don’t worry, I’mma take care of you.”

Dean moans softly then, because Dean is still Dean and he’s always been sensitive to praise. It always makes Sam’s heart hurt a little, thinking about how Dean still is, and always will be, their father’s boy, so eager to please and to be loved.

Sam slides the panties to the side and goes back to rimming, this time not holding anything back. He presses his tongue inside again and again until he finally breaches the muscle, dragging a choked-off cry out of Dean. Sam pushes, licks, and sucks, using his whole mouth, and then he loses track of time, allows himself to just feel; the contraction of Dean’s asshole around his tongue, the quick rise of his stomach as he pants loudly, the noise of his fingernails scratching the comforter, the low moans and curses that escape his mouth without interruption.

Sam could come just from this, from knowing he’s the one that turns Dean into a pleading mess, knowing only Sam gets to have his brother like that, stripped bare.

“Come on,” Sam murmurs, letting go of Dean’s legs. “Let's get these off.”

Sam still enjoys teasing Dean’s cock a little bit through the damp panties, but he needs more, they both do. He starts sliding the fabric down, Dean helping eagerly, and Sam watches as his brother's long, uncut dick springs free, practically throbbing with blood. Dean moans helplessly, parts his legs as far as they’ll go while Sam gets rid of his own boxers and grabs the lube waiting on the bedside table, slicking his cock with it. Dean reacts strongly to the wet noise, biting his lips on a groaned plea. “Sam…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got you,” Sam says, a little short of breath from his own arousal. 

Dean likes it a little rough, so Sam shoves two fingers in his wet, swollen hole, finding his prostate quickly, scissoring and circling and pushing in and out, then adding another, watching how easily the pink muscle swallows them. Dean pushes back, grunting each time Sam rubs his soft spot. A fine film of sweat covers his body, head to toe, and the blush on his face has reached his ears and throat. He’s beautiful, always will be, there is nothing or no one Sam can compare his brother to. And the fact that Dean doesn’t know, despite his snarky comments and false overconfidence, just adds to it -Sam is almost drunk with it. He needs to be inside his brother’s ass now.

“Ready?” He asks, shoving his fingers as far as they’ll go.

“You huh… fuck, you really need to ask?” Dean pants, probably going for sarcastic, but it comes out needy and soft.

Sam takes Dean’s legs and pulls them over his shoulders, then without waiting, shoves his cock inside Dean, hard; he doesn’t stop until he’s bottomed out and Dean is letting out those intoxicating high-pitched little groans.

Sam bends down and kisses him. As soon as Dean feels Sam’s lips, he opens his mouth eagerly, trying to take control of the kiss, his tongue parting Sam’s mouth and licking every surface inside, and for a moment, Sam lets him. Then he pulls back and something resembling a pout appears on his brother’s face, lips red, wet and swollen.

_Jesus._

“Wrap your arms around me,” Sam instructs, feeling the need to move, unable to wait anymore.

Dean’s arms all but fly to wrap themselves around Sam’s neck. “Come on, Sam, come on. Fuck me hard, need it,” he says, voice gravely.

“Okay, baby, okay, I got you.”

Sam slides his dick out until only the head is breaching Dean’s hole, then pushes back as hard as he can, kicking a surprised breath out of Dean.

“You’re… lucky I’m fucking close,” Dean pants, groaning as Sam gives another push, as hard as the first. “’cause you know where you can shove your _baby_ …”

“Well, I sure as hell can’t shove it in your ass, it’s already full,” Sam jokes, and Dean’s mouth quirks up, even though he tries very hard not to smile.

“Yeah, and that’s how I like it -come on, give it to me.”

Sam complies. Neither of them is going to last long at this point, and that’s not how the game goes anymore. The game is to make Dean lose it, to make him come so hard he’ll remember it for days, and there is nothing that gets Sam off faster than being the one to make Dean shiver and moan in pleasure until he’s completely spent and lax.

They fuck hard and fast, Dean bent in half, pleading for more, the cheap bed frame hitting the wall each time Sam pushes in. The room smells heavy with sweat and sex, the air filled with grunts and pants and moans, and god, Sam could do this forever, his skin slapping against Dean’s as he looks down at his brother’s cock, untouched and jerking, a steady stream of precome sliding out and making a sticky web connecting to his stomach.

“Look at me,” Sam says, when he feels like he can’t hold it anymore.

Dean’s eyes open immediately, dark with desire, searching Sam’s.

“Fuck, love you so much,” Sam murmurs before angling his head to kiss Dean again. It’s not a kiss, not really, just their lips tied together while they breathe fast, while they reach completion. Sam slides his hand between their stomachs and grabs Dean’s cock.

“Oh god, oh fuck, yeah,” Dean says in a high pitched voice, “Yeah, Sam, just like… gonna come, fuck, gonna come so… huh…”

And then Dean is done. His already bent body tenses all over, his mouth opened on a silent scream, his eyelids fluttering, dark, wet eyelashes caressing the freckled skin under them. A warm and generous stream of semen comes out of him in powerful pulses, coating Sam’s hand. Dean jerks violently with a first aftershock, his inner walls constricting so hard around Sam’s dick it triggers a strong, sudden orgasm that has Sam groaning long and loud, burying himself as deep as he can into Dean. He just rides the wave of pleasure for a while, and it’s good, so good, and it’s even better afterward, when he comes back to his senses to see Dean still looking at him, gaze unfocused and lazy, his chest heaving with exertion.

“Holy shit,” Dean says, running a hand through his messed up hair.

“Mmm,” Sam agrees.

He slowly slides out of Dean and all but falls onto the bed next to him, one arm draped over Dean's chest.

“The panties?” Dean asks after a moment.

“Ruined.”

“Damn it, Sam, I liked those! It would be nice if we could actually use a pair more than once.”

Sam snorts. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I bite through them.”

Dean actually blushes at that, which is all kinds of funny considering he’s just been ranting about liking a pair of silk panties. “Like I said, you're a kinky fucker. Now go get a washcloth, and I want my coffee and cinnamon rolls.”

“Awww, Dean, so eager to take back control now.”

Sam is rewarded by an elbow in the ribs. He figures he more or less deserved it.

“I can’t wait to see you take that dildo I bought,” Dean answers in a dirty voice. “Got a cock ring too.”

Sam’s cock tries to jerk at the thought. He grunts and sits on the bed. Dean won’t stop until he gets what he wants. And right now, Dean wants to be cleaned and fed. Besides, Sam is happy to comply. It still feels like he’s allowed to take care of Dean for a little while, and he’s not going to deny himself. He is a kinky fucker.

“You know,” he tells Dean from the bathroom. “I almost decided to eat my breakfast and coffee at the bakery before coming back.”

“You know,” Dean replies in the same tone. “I may be into your stupid power play shit, but I can still kick your ass. Don’t ever forget that.”

Yes, right. Sam bet Dean still would’ve waited, even if he’d taken his time to read the news while sipping on his coffee.

…And wouldn’t that be a fun thing to try next time?

FIN


End file.
